


The Mind Trap

by TheAllonsyGirl



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Delusions, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:28:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAllonsyGirl/pseuds/TheAllonsyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are never as they seem. The Doctor does not exist, nor do his companions, nor his enemies. John Smith is a small boy, and he's sick. Very sick. Between him, and the other patients at Redwood Children's Psychiatric Hospital, is there any hope for their recovery? (Loosely based on an idea by Tumblr User Cosmic gyral)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mind Trap

REDWOOD CHILDREN’S PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL   
WARD 40 –

“Did you check the vitals on bed ten?” Ward Sister Miranda Saxon didn’t look up from her clipboard as she addressed Nurse Lucy Kenner, who was counting small medicine cups, which she had laid upon a tray.

“I was just going to head in with these,” she held up the tray, laden with pills of blue, white, green and yellow; she smiled grimly.  
“Is there a problem, Nurse Kenner?” Miranda raised an authoritative eyebrow. Lucy averted her gaze as she responded;

“No, no…it’s just…his delusions are getting worse Sister, even on high-dose Olanzapine,”

She looked across the dimly-lit reception, towards the double doors; the mouth of the ward where the children lay. Miranda folded her arms, the clipboard against her chest and sighed deeply;

“He’s on the highest dose we can give him; he’s due a review with Doctor Kaled this afternoon; it’s all we can hope for that he puts him into an isolated room. He’s starting to scare the others. Can’t blame the poor boy though; from some of the stories he spins, he must be terrified,” she shook her head in sympathy, and made a light step towards the staff room door; relieving herself of her clipboard, which now hung upon the brass hook on the wall.

“Get those pills out as soon as possible. I hope for your sake that Rose is in fact Rose, today. Page me if things get…out of hand,” her lips stretched thinly into a grim smile, and she entered the staff room. The door closed behind her, with a bang that seemed to echo through the silence that pervaded the air. 

Lucy gripped the tray, willing herself to hold her composure. She swept an errant blonde hair back into the golden ponytail she wore, and gently smoothed down her crimson-red scrubs with one hand. Her heels made hollow, lonely sounds upon the oil-black marble floor as she approached the ward doors. She reached her right hand up to the hexagon-shaped keypad, and touched the glowing orange keys to gain access. The door made a harsh buzzing sound as the number ‘903’ changed from red to green, granting access. She lightly pushed upon the double doors and slid inside like a liquid shadow, noiselessly closing the door. The only visible lights in the room were from the subtle glow of the heart monitors, they beeped in the same familiar and safe way they were supposed to. 

Lucy could hear Donna’s soft, incoherent mumbling as she slept, Jack’s mischievous laughter, and John’s soft whimpers of distress. As much as her heart ached for the children she cared for, it also froze; they frightened her. The severity of the cases varied, but Ward 40 was the point of no return.

In tow hundred years since it was established in 1814, only seven patients had ever left Ward 40 Redwood. Alive, that is. Lucy laid the tray of pills upon the steel trolley by the door, and wheeled it as quietly as possible over to the first curtain on the left hand side of the ward. The light above the curtain flicked on as if the patient behind it had anticipated this unwarranted intrusion. Lucy pulled back the curtain gingerly, and found her eyes locked onto the blank-staring face of its inhabitant; Rose Tyler. After a long minute, Lucy pulled her gaze away and picked up the slate-coloured clipboard, which hung from the end of Rose’s bed. She scanned across the information quickly, regularly flicking her gaze up, mindful of Rose’s tendency to transition, and attack.

NAME: Rose Tyler.  
Age: 7yrs  
DIAGNOSIS: DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER.   
MEDICATION: HIGH-DOSE OLANZAPINE 3X DAILY  
NOTES: Transitions between “Rose” and “Bad Wolf” and “The Moment” with increasing frequency, and severity. Shares delusions with patient #10 John Smith. All versions of Rose mention “The Doctor”, the title John affords himself. Extraordinary case; observe closely, especially effect on other patients; curious to observe whether other patients allude to “The Doctor” when around Rose and John. Section level for patient is 1; fifteen minute checks, removal of all sharp, or potentially dangerous items. Review twice a week on Mon and Thur. – Dr Dave Kaled.

Rose’s vacant stare remained glued to the blue glow of her vitals monitor. Her eyes were like placid lakes of emptiness, as if she had never experienced as much as a spark of life within her limp body. Lucy put the clipboard back onto the bed rail, and edged marginally closer to the small and rigid frame of the little girl. She traipsed the steel trolley behind her, and took a small cup with three pills nestled inside it; one green, one blue and one white.   
“Rose?” Lucy attempted to speak, even though her voice came out hoarse and gravely as her mouth dried up. She cleared her throat and tried again;

“Rose? It’s time for your medicine,” she kept her eyes fixed on the girl’s splayed-out wave of golden hair. After perhaps a minute, Rose turned her head slowly, her eyes careful and calculated. 

"You don't learn, do you?" she spoke solemnly, her eyes hawk-like and boring into Lucy's skin; she almost feel the searing burn. Lucy stammered slightly;

"I-I," she shook her head, and couldn't formulate the words she required.

"She's lost, so very lost," she continued, her head turning slowly to one side.  
"I looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me. I am reborn," she rose from her back and stood up on her knees, creeping across the bed towards Lucy.

"Stay there, Rose; I'm not going to hurt you. You're just not very well, you need your medicine," Lucy spoke meekly, as her body quivered.

"Why do you say her name as though it belongs to me?"she narrowed her darkening eyes and continued to creep forwards; menacing and frantic, yet eerily contained.

"You're um...who are you? Where is Rose?" Lucy gulped softly, and grasped behind her for the drawer that contained syringes full of Haldol; her only defense against the volatile lashes from the tendrils of mental illness.

"Are you afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?" she smiled with an unrelenting malice, her eyes madder still.

"Do you want me to be afraid?" Lucy swallowed thickly, trying not to reveal her throat to be as raw and vulnerable as it was.

"I don't want you to be anything," she growled and gripped her fingers around the metal frame at the end of the bed, her knuckles both white, and red raw. Lucy remembered the notes she'd read about Rose, she remembered the words 'Bad Wolf' and her blood ran cold. 

She fumbled inside the drawer, desperately grasping at the syringes inside. She came out with a two milligram syringe of Haldol, and held it tightly in her hand. The small girl was now merely inches away from her, and she prayed that 'Rose' would remain calm. If she started screaming, they all would, and Lucy knew that she could never handle them all by herself.


End file.
